


And I'm on fire

by Small_bump



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future verse - 28th Century, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 21:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12639690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_bump/pseuds/Small_bump
Summary: "Sugden are you alright?""Not exactly, I've got myself into a bit of a scrape."(A sci-fi AU.)





	And I'm on fire

 

 

Robert's crouched down, knees bent, back pressed against a tree trunk. It’s windy, almost violently so, lush green leafs falling on either side of him. Bad weather definitely wasn't in the brief, then again neither was the hostile inhabitants. Glam, a forest world; was meant to be peaceful. A simple trade deal, that's what he'd signed up for. Not running for cover behind some god damn tree because they were too trigger happy.

"Sophie," he shouts into his intercom, waiting for the A.I to reply. Sophie, his artificial intelligence had been with him since he'd made lieutenant and had embarked on solo missions for the federation. "Soph?" he tries again. The incoming fire heavy, it suddenly dawns on Robert, that Sophie's interface might have been compromised.

Shit. 

He's got no other choice than to do things manually, how 27th century of him. He types in the intercom's unique distress signal and within seconds, a voice comes through clear, in his right earpiece, the left having fallen out during the tumble.

_"Sugden are you alright?"_

"Not exactly, I've got myself into a bit of a scrape."

 _"Care to be a bit more specific?"_ Robert could just  _tell,_ Dingle's rolling his eyes from where he's sat at his station in the cockpit. 

"Well, I don't know what you lot are doing over there on Alpha, but lemme tell you Glam, ain't  _friendly._ In fact, I've got a hole in the side of my ship as proof."

_"What have you done?"_

"Me?!" Robert exclaims, "are you kidding? The brief said  _routine_ Dingle; meet the queen, hand her the gift,  _maybe_ grab something to eat," he retorts "how could I have screwed that up?"

_"I mean."_

Robert breathes, "can we have this conversation  _later._ I'm a mile away from the ship, with heavy fire from all ends and Sophie down. What the fuck am I meant to do?"

The thing is, Robert liked plans. In fact, he didn't just like them, he lived by them. He didn't mind being the one to run towards danger if anything he feeds of the adrenaline rush, but there's always an exit strategy. This was unprecedented, peaceful missions don't come with exit strategies in the briefs. He's never been good at winging it, growing up he was especially hateful of the term. It wasn't him. 

_"Don't panic, send me your coordinates and I'll beam you back to the base."_

"Wait, what about my ship? What about Sophie?" He blurts out. Perhaps he's gotten a little too attached, solo mission, are just that; solo. Sue him for getting attached, she's the only thing he could properly talk to for months. 

_"Consider it collateral damage."_

"There has to be another way."

 _"Sugden,"_ Dingle warns _"think about it, even if by some miracle you make it back onboard, you said it yourself. There's a hole in the side of the ship, for all you know it won't start. And if Sophie's down, that's a good indication that it won't._ _"_

Robert chews on his bottom lip, it's gone eerily quiet, the sound of impending danger. 

_"Robert, send me your coordinates now. That's an order."_

"Are you pulling rank on me?" he tries to joke, but Dingle doesn't seem amused. Mission not  _accomplished._ "All you Alpha lot make Major before us agents, conspiracy theory or what?"

_"I'm not going to ask you again, Robert."_

They're not supposed to use first names on duty, it was one of  _Aaron's_ rules. It's not like everyone didn't know they were more than co-workers. It was more about keeping a "professional front" whatever that was meant to mean. 

He'd meet the then Captain at one of Chrissie's function's back when he and Chrissie were still a  _thing._ Aaron had drawn the short straw, having to attend for his station. It was a White Party after all; so guaranteed to be  _dull._ It had only taken an hour in the younger man's company before they were falling into bed together. His relationship with Chrissie dying out a few weeks later. So he guessed he owned the Whites, not that he'd ever say that out  _loud._

There's a crackle behind him, the sound of a branch breaking underneath someone's feet. A second later, the space in front of him is ablaze;  _fire._ Just what Robert needed on top of the unsloth of bullets,  _ray guns._

He needs to make a run for it, his opportunity to be beamed back to Alpha having past. He can't say his too sorry, as dangerous as it may be, the thought of leaving his ship, of leaving Sophie, wasn't a pleasurable one.

"I love you," he mumbles out, loud enough for Aaron to hear over the intercom. 

_"What-"_

Robert doesn't hear the rest, thrown to the ground by another blast, the flames almost touching his skin. Threatening to burn. His sweating, a thick strip down his forehead. There's an opening between the flames,  _one_ chance. Scrambling to his feet, holding his right arm to his chest, grunting in pain.  _Yeah, it's definitely broken._

He runs as far, and fast as his feet will carry him until he's out of breath and heaving. There's a silver gleam of hope, the mound of his ship catch's his eye, and his almost there. His almost made out of here, that is if the ship  _starts._

He doesn't want to think about that though, he doesn't want to think about the dancing flames that had surrounded him, and what that  _meant_ to him. He doesn't want to think about dying and breaking Aaron's heart, leaving him  _alone._

Instead, he focuses on getting back to the ship, forcing his over-worked body to make it to the home stretch. 

"Sophie?" he calls out when he makes it up the pathway and into the cockpit. It's futile, he was dumb to think she was still  _there._ Of course, they'll reprogramme her, but it won't be the same. He'll just have to live with it. 

He sits down at the helm, for the first time in hours, wincing from the almost euphoric feeling it gives. "Please work," Robert begs. His intercom was damaged during the initial blast, if this doesn't work, he was stranded until the federation could get boots on the ground. If he even made it that long with the inhabitants of Gleam still about. 

The ship, with a stroke of luck, does  _turn_ on. The moment the dashboard light's up, relief hits him hard, enough to make his eyes water. The ships using it's emergency protocol, the right engine having been lost in the blast. It's  _fixable._

"Sophie?" he calls out one last time.

After a  _beat_ "at your service Robert, shall I set us a course for Alpha?"

He lets out a breath of air " _please._ Also, can we get Major Dingle on the line?"

"Absolutely." 

 

 

 

"You," Aaron says, pointing at his chest. He's wearing a stern expression as he walks up the passage of the ship to meet Robert. It's only been minutes since they landed on Alpha, Robert hasn't even had time to catch his breath. 

"Before you shout," Robert starts but stops when he see's Aaron's eyes intently start at Robert's right arm. Particularly at the burnt hole in his uniform where the fire had managed to snag him during the rush to get through the open flames. 

They both know what fire  _means_ to him. They don't have secrets between them anymore, they've learnt the hard way, that secrets only add to the fire, they don't help put it out.

"I-" he doesn't get a chance to finish because Aaron's grabbing his good arm and pulling him into his embrace and Robert just melts. Buries his head in the crook of Aaron's shoulder, and let's the younger man carry some of his weight. Aaron's always been good at that,  _at_ carrying him when it feels like too much of a burden to stand alone. Aaron helps, helps in so many ways, but for right  _now,_ he wraps an arm around his waist and just  _holds him._ Doesn't even make a comment about the fact that Robert's got the shoulder blades of Aaron's uniform soaked.

"I'm still mad," Aaron warns, but there's no malice behind it.

"I know, I'll make it up to you I promise."

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a new universe I'm playing with. I'm super tempted to write a longer fic but I wanted to test the waters first before I committed to something along those lines. Ten virtual hugs to who can guess what this is based off. Come chat with me at @victoriasugden on Tumblr.


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